


These Memories

by RandomThingsInLife



Series: It's Overwhelming [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, F/M, Fix It, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Gen, I Stole Some Things from the Miniseries, M/M, Mentioned Myra Kaspbrak, POV Richie Tozier, Rated T for Trashmouth, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Richie Tozier, Soft everyone really, Stanley Uris Lives, developing Benverly, let them be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22708198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomThingsInLife/pseuds/RandomThingsInLife
Summary: Richie Tozier gets a phone call that turns his world upside down 20 minutes before he’s supposed to go read shitty jokes off a teleprompter on stage. He’s not sure how he manages to get through the conversation calmly, but by the time he hangs up, he’s promised to return to the hellscape he grew up in, even though he didn’t remember it until five fucking minutes ago.In the coming days, he'll remember a lot more than that and come to realize he'll do anything to keep the best friends he's ever had alive. Including, though he's not happy about it, fighting an alien clown monster.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: It's Overwhelming [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633264
Comments: 15
Kudos: 80





	These Memories

**Author's Note:**

> I did not intend for this to happen but these clown gays have taken over my life. So here we are. Yet another everybody lives fix it fic. Whoops.

Richie Tozier gets a phone call that turns his world upside down 20 minutes before he’s supposed to go read shitty jokes off a teleprompter on stage. He’s not sure how he manages to get through the conversation calmly, but by the time he hangs up, he’s promised to return to the hellscape he grew up in, even though he didn’t remember it until five fucking minutes ago. He looks up from his phone shakily and makes eye contact with his manager, who is giving him a what-the-fuck look. He promptly legs it outside and pukes his guts out.

“What the fuck, man?” Steve asks from beside him when he finally comes up for air.

“Bad news,” Richie says, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and mentally scrambling for an excuse.

“Is it a family thing?” Steve asks, “Or something I need to be worried about?”

Family. Bingo. And more true than Steve would ever know. “Yeah, it’s a family thing. I,” Richie takes a deep breath. “I gotta go home for a bit to take care of some things.”

“Home?” Steve asks, confused.

“Yeah, Maine,” Richie sighs. “It’s kinda hard to explain, but it’s a life or death thing.” He feels the truth of that in his bones even if his memory is still foggy.

Steve looks at him intently. Richie figures he must look frazzled enough because Steve nods somberly and sighs.

“Do you have any idea how long you’ll be gone?”

“No.” Richie swallows. “I have no idea. I’m hoping not that long.”

“Ok, so, your last tour date is next week. Should I cancel that one?”

That’s probably a good idea. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Richie sighs. “I may be back, but I’m not sure. And I’m not sure,” he makes a vague gesture. “Headspace.”

Steve looks at him hard. Sighs. “You’re not going out on that stage tonight, are you?”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, man,” Richie says, exhausted by the thought.

“Ok, ok.” Steve says, running a hand through his hair. “Ok. Yeah, we don’t want you to go out there and blow it. Ok, I’ll. Family emergency?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds like a cop out,” Richie says.

“No look, you’re allowed to have a life. They’ll be annoyed, but not angry like they’d be if you went out and blew it. Can you tell me what happened? Or should I make something up?” Steve says.

“My,” Richie thinks about Mike Hanlon, “Brother,” he says with more conviction than he thought would come out, “is in a bad place.” Derry is the worst place to be, and Mike never got out. Richie stumbles a bit searching for a more specific thing to say. “He’s uh, he’s in the hospital,” he lies. “I’m not clear on all the details, but I gotta get there, I gotta go be with my family.” And that is god’s honest truth.

“Aw, shit, Rich,” Steve sighs. “Take care, ok? Keep me posted on when you’re getting back.”

Richie nods.

“Ok, get out of here,” Steve says and heads inside to face the crowd.

Richie thinks suddenly of Stan Uris and it feels like a punch to the gut. Stan Uris was his best fucking friend and he forgot him. Richie calls Mike back.

“Richie?” Mike answers.

“Yeah, hey, could you, uh, could I get Stan’s number?” Richie asks.

“Stan?” Mike says like he’s surprised. “Yeah, sure, I’ll text it to you.”

“Thanks man,” Richie says. “I, uh, I gotta head out. I’ll see you soon.”

“See ya, Rich,” Mike says. His voice is warm and familiar, comforting, and Richie feels some of his anxiety ease even as he hangs up.

He heads out to his car and races back to his hotel, goes, head down, up to his room. 

Mike has texted him Stan’s number and he takes a deep breath then dials.

“Hello?” Stan answers and Richie sits heavily on the bed.

“Stan,” he breathes.

“Who- Richie?” Stan says hesitantly.

“Yeah, Jesus, Stan,” Richie says, a little helpless. His best fucking friend. He forgot his best fucking friend.

“Holy shit,” Stan says. “Richie.”

“Yeah, yeah, man” Richie nods even though he knows Stan can’t see him. “I barely remember a fucking thing, but you, Jesus, Stan, you’re my best fucking friend. How could I forget you?”

“I guess that’s what happens when a Lovecraftian monster fucks with your head,” Stan says humorlessly.

“A what?” Richie says, confused.

“Not important,” Stan says quickly. “Rich, are you going?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going. I gotta, man,” He says. “I’m freaking the fuck out, but I’m going.”

Stan takes a deep breath. It’s shaky, Richie can tell even down the phone. It’s like no time has passed at all, he _knows_ Stan, his best fucking friend. And Stan is scared.

“Then,” Stan says slowly. “Then I guess I’m going too.”

Richie exhales the breath he didn’t know he was holding and nods again. “Good, good, great, ok, I’ll see you there,” he says.

“I’ll see you there,” Stan says with a little more conviction.

“God, it’s good to hear your voice, man,” Richie says.

Stan laughs. “Beep beep, Trashmouth. A little too much sincerity.” Stan says, but it’s clear that he feels the same way. Richie wonders again how the fuck he forgot his best friend.

“You love me,” he tosses back, tension eking out of him little by little.

“Yeah, Rich, I do,” Stan says.

“Ok now who’s being too sincere!” Richie says, blinking tears out of his eyes.

“Alright, alright, I guess forgetting your family for 27 years will do that to you,” Stan says. “I’m really, really glad you called, Rich. I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t.”

Richie is gripped by a sudden terror. Something in him screams that Stan wouldn’t have made it back.

“You know, whatever’s waiting for us there, we can’t do it without you, Stan. Losers gotta stick together,” he says.

“Lucky seven,” Stan says, and he’s smiling.

“Yeah,” Richie grins.

“I gotta go book a flight, Rich,” Stan says. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Shit, me too,” Richie says. “I’ll see you soon.”

They hang up and Richie throws all his shit back into his duffel and calls the airport, books the soonest flight out. He’ll have a layover in Chicago, but it’s the route that gets him to Maine the fastest. He calls the Derry Townhouse and books a room.

He races to the airport and makes it to his gate ten minutes before they start boarding. Richie can feel the tension creeping back into him. Before he can reach a full-on panic, his phone dings.

It’s a text from Stan.

**Stan:** At the airport. I’m freaking out again.

**Richie:** Dude, I have not stopped freaking out.

**Richie:** I’m also at the airport. I’ve got a layover in Chicago, but I’m getting there literally as quick as I can.

**Stan:** I actually hate that I’ll get back to Derry way before you.

**Richie:** Stan, my man, if you want, just chill at the airport in Maine and I will meet you there.

**Stan:** That is surprisingly thoughtful of you, Rich.

**Richie:** Fuck you, man, I’m thoughtful.

**Stan:** Sure, Rich.

**Stan:** If you mean it, I’d love that.

**Richie:** Course I mean it. No one should have to face the hellmouth alone.

**Stan:** Thanks Rich

They start boarding the flight.

**Richie:** hey, I gotta go, flight’s boarding

**Stan:** Ok. See you soon.

**Richie:** See you soon.

Richie doesn’t let himself think on the flight. He falls asleep as soon as they’ve taken off and doesn’t wake up until they land in Chicago. He’s got a three-hour layover and he thinks he may grab a bite to eat, but the anxiety curling in his stomach suggests a repeat performance and his throat really can’t handle that. He grabs a tea in hopes that it’ll settle his stomach and makes his way to the gate, settling into a chair to wait.

He texts Stan. He knows Stan won’t see it until he lands in Maine, but Richie feels like he should keep him updated.

**Richie:** Landed in Chicago

He sighs and decides to update Steve.

**Richie:** Hey. I’m headed to Maine. I’m at the airport in Chicago right now. Just so you’re aware in case someone snaps a photo. I’m ok. Hope the cancelling went ok.

Steve texts back almost immediately. 

**Steve:** Thanks for the update, Rich. Good to know. It went as well as can be expected. People were disappointed and we’re issuing refunds, but I think everyone can understand a family crisis. Might be helpful to post something on Twitter? Totally up to you.

**Richie:** I’ll do that. Thanks, Steve.

He pulls up Twitter.

**Richie Tozier** **✓** **@trashmouthtozier** Apologies for the sudden cancellation, guys. Family emergency. I’ll probably be radio silent for a bit.

**Richie Tozier** **✓** **@trashmouthtozier** As a general update, airports still suck.

He locks his phone and closes his eyes. Allows himself to think about the Losers. Mike, Stan, Bill. Holy shit, Bill Denbrough. He’s a horror writer. Richie has all of his books, has seen all of his movies. He always felt like he had to, and now it makes sense. Because that’s Big Bill’s book, and that’s his family. Richie is suddenly retroactively proud of Bill. It feels weird. Good, but weird. There were seven of them, so now he tries to remember. Bev, Beverly Marsh, their girl, the coolest girl he ever met, his sister in all but blood. He used to sneak cigarettes with her under the bleachers at school and they’d talk about, they’d talk about, his massive crush on, on, on, _Eddie_. Eddie Kaspbrak. _Eddie_ , who he’s known since kindergarten. _Eddie_ , who he’s loved since he was twelve. Eddie, who had patched up Ben Hanscom the first day they met him. Patched up Ben, the actual nicest human he’s ever met. Ben, who had been attacked by Henry Bowers who’d cut an H right into Ben’s stomach. Memories are flooding into his head and he’s feeling sick. So much for the tea settling his stomach. He runs to the bathroom and pukes his guts out again. His throat burns. He washes his face and rinses his mouth out, makes his way back to his chair and slumps into it. He rubs at his eyes.

“Richie?” comes a soft voice from somewhere off to his left.

He looks up and sees a red-haired woman looking at him in disbelief. He looks at her in confusion for a minute before it dawns on him. _That_ is Beverly Marsh.

“Bev?” He says.

“Holy shit, I thought that was you. What are you doing here?” she asks, rushing toward him.

“I’m gonna guess the same thing you are,” he teases and opens his arms for a hug.

She hesitates for a split second before throwing herself into his arms. She squeezes him tight.

“It’s so good to see you,” she says, sounding a little choked up. Her clothes and hair are damp, Richie realizes as he’s clinging to her. When she pulls back she’s grinning at him and she looks good.

“Jesus, Bev, I can’t believe I forgot everything,” he says. Apparently that’s his new mantra.

“Rich, I,” her face crumbles.

“Woah, hey, you’re okay,” He murmurs and guides her into the chair next to his.

“My life is so fucked,” She laughs.

“I would just like to point out in advance that I am not qualified to give life advice, Marsh,” he says to lighten the mood. “But whatever you gotta say, I’ll listen.”

“Thanks Rich,” she says softly. “I just, I got away from my dad and things were good and then, when we moved out of Derry, I forgot everything, and I eventually let myself get married to a man exactly like my father.” She rubs at her arm.

“Bev,” he breathes, taking her hand gently in his and looking up at her questioningly.

She bites her lip and nods.

Richie slides the sleeve of her jacket up and nearly gasps when he sees the bruises discoloring the skin of her forearm.

“Bev,” he looks at her, thinks he may cry.

“You can’t cry on me, Trashmouth,” she says shakily. “I don’t think I can handle that.”

“Are you going back?” he asks softly.

“No,” She says, determined. “Never again. I left my ring on the table on my way out the door. Just shoved whatever I couldn’t live without into my backpack and ran out. I was already packing when he found me, but, god, he was so mad. I had to knock him out before I could get away. I walked out barefoot and it was the best I’ve felt in so long.”

“Good for you, Bevvy,” he says gently. He means it. She was always the stronger of the two of them.

“Were you in Chicago already?” Bev asks, wiping at her eyes and signaling she’s done with the topic.

“No, I was on tour. I booked the fastest trip to Maine I could, and it landed me with a layover here,” He says. “I’m really fucking glad it did.”

“Looks like you’ve had a rough time of it,” she says, eyes searching his face.

“I puked after I got off the phone with Mike,” he laughs humorlessly. “Then I got Stan’s number and called him. We were texting until I had to get on the last plane. You just missed my epic memory flood induced meltdown.”

“Jesus, Rich.” Bev says. She knows him well enough to know what his version of meltdown entails.

“I’ll be okay,” He says. “Honestly, you being here makes it ten times better. That’s what happened when I talked to Stan too. I can’t quite remember everything, but I know there’s something bad waiting for us back in Derry. But you guys, you guys are my family and whatever I have to face to get you back, it’ll be well worth it.”

“There always was a sweet guy under all that trash talk,” Bev says, smiling at him fondly.

Richie’s phone dings. It’s Steve.

**Steve:** Good tweet. Nice job. Safe travels.

**Richie:** Thanks.

**Richie:** Hey, I met up with an old friend who is also travelling in for this deal with my brother. We’re having a hard time; I’m not paying as much attention to my surroundings as I probably should be so there may be photos of us. Her name’s Beverly Marsh. She’s practically my sister. Not sure if that’ll help, but you know, just in case.

**Steve:** YOU’RE friends with Bev Marsh?!?!

**Richie:** Yeah?

**Steve:** The famous fashion designer Bev Marsh?

“Hey Bev, are you a famous fashion designer?” he asks.

“I guess, kind of?” Bev laughs.

“Huh, neat,” he says.

**Richie:** Apparently so. To be fair, we haven’t seen each other in a while.

**Steve:** Holy shit. You friends with anyone else I should be aware of?

Richie can sense the sarcasm dripping off the text.

“Hey Bev,” he says, “My manager is freaking out that we’re friends. Should I tell him I know Bill now or later?”

“Don’t tell him,” Bev says, mischief sparking in her eyes. “Send him a picture later.”

“I like the way you think Miss Marsh,” he declares. And ignores Steve’s text.

They spend the rest of the wait catching up on more trivial things. Bev tells Richie she used to watch him on SNL and try hard to remember why he felt so familiar. Richie tells her about Bill’s books. She laughs. She asks if he has a boyfriend.

“No, I, I’m not out,” he says quietly.

“What? Rich, why not?” she says.

“My first manager told me if I ever wanted work I had to be straight. I mean, not in so many words, but like, the guy who had been in his office just ahead of me was gay and wanted to be out publicly and my manager dropped him then went off on a tangent about how the industry didn’t have room for, well, those types, but not so nicely, so I just, didn’t say anything about it. I don’t date so it’s not like I’m hurting anyone.” He says.

“Richie!” Bev says, eyes wide. “That’s terrible. Yes you are hurting someone. You’re hurting you! Jesus, Rich, you used to tell me that once you were out of Derry you were never going to keep it a secret again.”

“Clearly whatever fucked over our memories also fucked us over,” Richie says. He’s hurt, but not about to point back out that she married her dad, that’s a real dick move, and he’d never hurt Bev like that.

“It was a shit thing for your manager to do to you, Rich. And its bullshit that you’re living with that weight,” She says angrily, the anger clearly directed at the people who shoved Richie back in the closet and locked him in.

“That’s why my standup isn’t great,” Richie says softly. “They hired ghostwriters to keep up the image.”

“That fucking sucks, Rich. You’re too smart to have other people writing shit for you,” she says.

“Thanks Marsh.” He smiles. “Maybe, maybe after, maybe I’ll come out, fire my writers, do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Yes,” She says fiercely. “And I’ll be with you every step of the way. We got our family back, Rich.”

They grin at each other until they’re interrupted by the announcement that the plane will begin boarding. The flight is relatively empty, so they plop into seats next to each other and hope no one comes to challenge them. No one does and they spend the flight half in content silence and half in shared memory. When they land there’s a text waiting on Richie’s phone from Stan.

**Stan:** Got a hotel room. Figured you’d be a while and we could use some sleep before we head to Derry. There’s a key for you at the reception desk.

There’s a location attached.

“Looks like we’re going to see a bed before we face whatever doom awaits in Derry,” Richie tells Bev.

She looks at him in confusion.

“Stan beat us here. He didn’t want to go into town by himself so I told him to just hang out and we could ride together. He got a hotel room.” Richie tells her and she grins.

“Stan! He always did have the best plans,” she says.

They grab their bags and head to the hotel. The receptionist smiles brightly at them and hands over the key.

Richie knocks on the door when they reach it. Stan made sure he could get in, but it feels like the right thing to do. They only wait for half a minute before the door is yanked open.

“Richie,” Stan says.

“Stan the Man!” he replies, grinning.

Stan pulls him into a hug and Richie nearly melts into it. Bev giggles from behind him. Stan stands on his tiptoes to peer over Richie’s shoulder.

“Bev?” he says in surprise.

“Yeah!” she smiles.

Stan releases Richie to pull Bev into a hug.

“Not that this isn’t great, but could we move it inside the room?” Richie says.

“Yeah, yes, yeah,” Stan nods and drags them both inside.

“I know you weren’t expecting me,” Bev starts.

“This is the best surprise, really,” Stan says, grinning. “But how did this happen?”

“I was living in Chicago. Richie and I happened to be on the same flight to Maine,” Bev says.

“This is amazing. But I’m sure you’re exhausted,” Stan says, then looks apologetically at the king-sized bed. “This was all they had left.”

“It’s fine,” Bev says. “We’ve all slept in the same bed before.”

Richie laughs. “This one is twice the size of the one we used to share.” He says, thinking of how they used to sleep over at Bill’s.

“And there are far less people in it,” Bev says.

“Richie is still all elbows and knees, though,” Stan says.

They laugh, falling into each other. It’s not really funny, they certainly shouldn’t be laughing as hard as they are but being back together is almost euphoric and they can’t help themselves.

Richie and Bev take turns in the shower and the three of them crawl into bed together. A few hours later, they’re up again and packing it in. Richie leads them out to his rental, and they stop for a late breakfast.

“So,” Stan says over pancakes. “I watched some of your standup on the flight.”

“It’s not great,” Richie says, shrugging. He’s aware.

“No, but I really liked you on SNL,” Stan says.

“What?!” Richie says, incredulous. “Staniel, did you just admit that you think I’m funny?”

“Only when you have stuff written for you,” Stan glares.

“Funny you should say that,” Bev smirks. “Richie doesn’t write his own standup material.”

Stan nearly chokes on his coffee. “No,” he says, horror on his face.

“I had more of a hand in what I did and said on SNL than I do in my standup,” Richie says grinning.

“You have writers?” Stan says. “Why?”

“His manager was homophobic,” Bev says quietly after a glance to check that the coast was clear.

“Wait, Rich, are you not out?” Stan asks slowly.

“Nope. In fact, the only two people I ever came out to are sitting here with me right now,” he says.

“Rich,” Stan says.

Richie holds up a hand. “Bev already gave me a pep talk. After we get through Derry, Stan. Please,” he says. “And maybe can we not say anything to the others? I’ll tell them, but I don’t know how I want to do it yet.”

“Of course, Rich, we wouldn’t out you,” Bev says sincerely and pushes an extra slice of bacon onto his plate.

“You feeding me up, Marsh?” he teases in thanks.

“You could use it, Rich,” Stan says. “You’re too skinny.”

“Oh fuck,” Richie laughs. “Who sounds like his mother?”

Stan glares at him. Richie grins back and Stan’s glare morphs into a quiet smile.

“I’ve missed you guys,” Stan says, “I didn’t even know how much.”

“Me too,” Bev says softly.

“I always knew something was missing, now I know what,” Richie says.

They finish breakfast quietly and pile into the car. It’s a quiet drive to Derry. When they’re close enough to be able to read the Welcome to Derry sign Stan suddenly grabs Richie’s arm.

“Stop the car,” he says urgently.

Richie does, pulling over and parking. Stan is out of the car almost immediately. Richie recognizes a panic attack and moves in to help. Stan looks at him gratefully while trying to catch his breath. Richie places Stan’s hand on his chest and starts taking exaggerated breaths that Stan slowly starts to match. When Stan is breathing normally again and stops shaking he leans forward and presses his face into Richie’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” he says, muffled in Richie’s shirt.

“Anytime,” Richie says gently. “At least yours wasn’t accompanied by the puking that typically comes with mine.”

Stan laughs and pulls back. “Ok, I think I’m ready,” he says.

Richie looks to Bev and she nods. Richie nods.

“Alright, gang, back to the mystery machine,” he says.

They climb back into the car and cross into Derry.

It’s not that anything is different when they cross into the city limits, but it feels like the air is heavier, feels almost like they’re being watched.

Bev reaches out and grabs Richie’s shoulder. Stan balls his fists in his lap. Richie breathes through the tension and focuses on driving. There’s a red balloon trapped in one of the trees on the side of the road. Bev watches it as they pass by. Stan pointedly doesn’t look. Richie focuses on driving. There’s a red balloon floating across the road. Bev lets out a quiet whimper. Stan squeezes his eyes shut. Richie focuses on driving.

“It can’t get us in the car,” Richie says, shaky, unsure of what he means by it, but somehow believing this will work.

“You don’t know that,” Stan hisses.

“It can’t get us in the car if we believe that it can’t,” Bev says.

“What?” Stan says, whipping around to face her.

“We have to believe it,” She says, realization creeping across her face. “That’s how this works.”

Stan stares at her. Richie focuses on driving.

“It can’t get us in the car,” Bev says with conviction, eyes boring into Stan’s.

“It can’t get us in the car,” Stan repeats, quieter, tentative.

“It can’t get us in the car,” Richie says firmly and focuses on driving.

“I cannot imagine coming into town on my own,” Bev says.

“I wouldn’t have made it here if Richie hadn’t called,” Stan admits quietly.

“I might have just turned right around,” Richie says.

They’re silent until they reach the main downtown drag of Derry.

“They closed the theater!” Bev says.

“And the arcade,” Richie grumbles.

“What will you do with your time now, Trashmouth?” Stan teases. “There’s no Streetfighter to occupy you.”

“Looks like I’ll have to pay a visit to your mom,” Richie says without thinking. Holy shit.

Stan busts out laughing at the wide-eyed horror on Richie’s face.

“Oh man, your face!” he says, gasping for breath.

“Was I always like that?” Richie says hesitantly. He’s on medicine for his ADHD now, he knows it had been bad, but he hadn’t realized it was _that_ bad.

“Oh, worse, definitely worse,” Bev says.

“Especially around Eddie,” Stan says.

Bev snorts, which sets Stan off again.

“How did you guys stand to be around me?” Richie asks sincerely and they stop laughing immediately.

“Rich,” Bev says. “You were obnoxious sometimes, but you’re _our_ Trashmouth. You’re family, we love you. And underneath all the shit you used to talk is a really, genuinely kind, caring guy. You’d seriously do anything for us. You’re dramatic and loud, but you’re loyal and protective.”

“How many times did you mouth off to Bowers when he was picking on one of us? You always redirected them and took the beating they meant to give us,” Stan says softly. “Rich, we put up with your mouth because we love you, and honestly, we love you because of who you are not despite it. And whenever you took it too far all we had to do was tell you and you’d dial it back. Because we’re family, Rich, and we care about you.”

“You always were the most sensitive of us all, and we could tell that some of the talk was a front to protect yourself. You were never afraid to be gentle with us,” Bev says.

Richie is glad they’ve reached the Townhouse. He parks just in time to start crying.

Bev leans forward and presses her cheek to his shoulder.

“We love you, Rich,” she says gently.

Stan leans over to wrap the two of them in a hug.

Richie cries for longer than he’d like to admit. He’s been so alone for so long; he hadn’t realized how truly lonely he was. Stan and Bev do not move, they just keep holding him through it. At some point he feels that his shirt is wet which means someone else is crying too. He looks up and is met with the tear stained faces of Stan and Bev. He starts laughing. They’re all laughing at each other hysterically. It doesn’t take long before the laughter morphs back into tears. They’re sitting in the car losing their minds for a good twenty minutes before they manage to rein themselves back in.

Richie takes off his glasses and rubs at his eyes. “We should probably head inside,” he says.

“I could use a nap,” Bev says.

Richie and Stan nod in agreement. That emotional release seems to have left them all drained.

“We’re not supposed to meet the others until six,” Stan says.

“Nap time, baby,” Richie says and hops out of the car.

They grab their bags from the trunk and head inside. The parking lot is empty except for their car so they assume they’ve beaten the others here.

There’s no one at the desk when they walk in, and Richie rings the bell obnoxiously until Stan smacks his arm and tells him to lay off. No one comes and they don’t hear footsteps anywhere in the building. Richie shrugs and ducks around the counter. The book containing the list of room bookings is laying open on the desk. Richie looks at it and is hit by a wave of nausea. Bill Denbrough, Ben Hanscom, Eddie Kaspbrak, Bev Marsh, Richie Tozier, Stan Uris. The six losers who left all in a list on this desk. He breathes through it and checks next to their names. He turns and pulls the keys, actual keys, out and hands them over to Stan and Bev. Stan rolls his eyes at him but takes the key. Bev is grinning at him as she takes hers. He pockets his own.

They head upstairs and turn to go into their own rooms.

“Hey,” Bev says tentatively. “Sorry if this is super weird, but do you think we could take a nap in the same room like last night?”

“Oh thank god,” Stan says.

Richie realizes that his nerves had ratcheted up at the thought of being separated from them as well.

“Yes, great,” he says. “Let’s drop our stuff in our rooms for the look of it then reconvene.”

“We can use my room,” Stan says, looking pointedly first at Richie then at Bev.

“Are you suggesting that we’ll need our rooms for something untoward, Staniel?” Richie says in a scandalized voice.

“I’m not suggesting anything,” Stan deadpans. “I’m 204. I’ll leave the door open, just come in.”

Richie laughs and nods. Bev nods. They head into their rooms.

Richie drops his bag unceremoniously on the bed then changes into a pair of sweatpants. He ducks back out of the room, locking it behind him, and heads to Stan’s. Stan has also changed into sweatpants.

“Aw,” Richie says teasingly, “We match!”

Stan rolls his eyes at him and it’s so painfully familiar that Richie tears up a bit. He blinks the tears away quickly and turns to grin at Bev as she enters. She’s changed into a pair of soft looking joggers.

“What are you losers waiting for?” she asks as she kicks the door shut and locks it. “Let’s get to napping.”

“I’ve set an alarm for five,” Stan says. “I figure we’ll want to freshen up before we go.”

“Thanks Stan the man,” Richie grins.

They crawl into bed and fall asleep tangled up close.

Richie jolts awake, heart racing, when Stan’s alarm goes off. Bev groans and buries her face in his chest.

“Five more minutes,” she grumbles.

“Nope,” Stan says, more awake than is fair considering how groggy Bev and Richie are. “Up, up, up. We gotta shower and get ready. Go.”

He hops out of the bed. Bev groans again then heaves herself up and off the bed. Richie blinks blearily at the ceiling until Bev shoves his glasses onto his face and pinches his side. He sits up and glares at her then gets up. They wave at Stan, then leave the room. She hip checks Richie once they get to her room and gives him a reassuring smile.

“It’ll be fine,” she says gently.

Richie nods and goes to his room. He hops in the shower and focuses on the heat and steam of it, in an attempt to prevent himself from freaking out over what they’re about to do.

He gets ready quickly, looking at himself critically once he’s done. His shirt is a little wrinkled, which is fair considering he shoved all his shit into his duffel without looking before he headed to the airport. He nervously smooths down the front of his shirt. He’s leaned close to the mirror to glare at his reflection when there’s a knock on his door.

It’s Stan. “Hey, I could sense you approaching a meltdown,” he says when Richie lets him in the room. “I’m here to prevent that.”

Richie sighs, says nothing.

“Hey,” Stan says gently. “You’re overthinking it. How did it go when you and I talked for the first time in forever?”

“Fine,” Richie says.

“Exactly, everything was fine. And how was it when you ran into Bev?” Stan says.

“Fine,” Richie says again, a little annoyed that this is working.

“Exactly. So, the rest of the Losers are as much family as we are. Come on, Rich, they’re going through this same thing. Let’s go remember together.”

Richie sighs. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” he admits softly.

“It’s probably anxiety,” Stan says, an eyebrow raised teasingly.

Richie sticks his tongue out at him. Stan smirks then wraps Richie up in a hug.

“It’ll be fine,” he says. “Let’s go so you can get past the freak out and realize everything’s ok, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Richie says and lets Stan hold him a little too long.

Bev knocks on the cracked door and sticks her head in. “Oh!” she says. “Am I missing affection?” She quickly weasels her way into the middle of the hug, getting her arms around both of them. She squeezes them tight. “I’m so glad to have my boys back,” she says, beaming up at them.

“We really better get going,” Stan says gently.

Richie nods.

“It’ll be fine, Rich,” Bev says. “We gotta go take a picture with Bill so we can freak your manager out, remember.” She grins up at him.

“I always knew you were a devious one, Marsh,” he says, relaxing into the familiarity of joking with his friends.

They leave the townhouse and pile back into Richie’s car. When they park at the restaurant, Bev hops out of the car almost immediately. Richie takes a deep breath to steel himself then looks at Stan. Stan’s eyes are shut tight. He’s freaking out.

“Stan?” Richie asks softly.

“I did the right thing coming back here, right Rich?” Stan asks quietly.

“Yeah, man,” Richie says. “If for no other reason than, holy shit, it’s good to get my family back.”

Stan takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay. Okay. I can do this. We can do this,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Stan and Richie climb out of the car and Richie spots Bev talking to a tall handsome man.

“Holy shit, Staniel,” Richie says incredulously. “That’s Ben.”

“He grew up,” Stan says.

“You guys look amazing, what the fuck happened to me,” Richie says as they approach where Bev and Ben are now hugging.

“Richie,” Ben grins at him.

“Hey Ben,” Stan says.

“Stan,” Ben turns his grin on Stan then moves to hug them both.

Richie looks pointedly at Bev, who he thinks is blushing a little.

They head inside the restaurant and the hostess directs them to a private room. The other three Losers are standing in there, backs to them. There’s a gong right by the entrance. Richie and Stan spot it at exactly the same time. Richie’s eyes light up.

“Do not fucking do it,” Stan hisses.

“Lighten up, Stan,” Bev says, giving Richie a conspiratorial grin.

Richie rings the gong. “This meeting of the Losers Club has officially begun!” he says.

The others turn to face them. Mike is grinning, Bill looks a little overwhelmed, and Eddie, Richie’s breath catches in his throat. Oh, he’s definitely still in love with Eddie.

“Look at these guys,” Eddie says awkwardly.

Wait, is Eddie, like, hot now? Richie is reeling. He lets Stan steer him into a seat. Then shoots him a betrayed look when he realizes that Stan has sat him directly next to Eddie. Stan smirks at him and Bev leers at him from across the table. He flips her off and dramatically slams his forehead into Stan’s shoulder.

“I need a fucking drink,” he groans.

“Ugh, ditto,” Stan says, shoving him off.

They order drinks and Mike orders a few different dishes family style. The drinks are set down, and as Eddie reaches for his, Richie clocks the ring on his hand. His heart sinks a little. He thinks he may physically shrink a bit. Stan surreptitiously slides him a shot. Stan always was looking out for him. He nods at Stan in thanks and takes the shot. Vodka. He decides he’ll get trashed and make Stan drive them back. He shoots a glance at Stan and Stan lifts his water glass pointedly. He sends him a grateful smile. Stan nods at the table in front of him, where there are three more shots already waiting.

The conversation flows easily between them, as if it hasn’t been over twenty years since they’ve seen each other. They’ve fallen right back into their old patterns, teasing each other and joking around. They play so naturally off each other, and it’s a little incredible. Richie can’t believe that they’re all here, together again. Everything seems fine, and for a second Richie forgets that there’s a reason that he’s terrified of being back here. They’re trading stories, some memories, some things that they’ve missed out on.

Richie is two too many shots in and he’s suddenly singling Eddie out. “So, wait, Eddie, you got married?” he hears himself saying.

“Yeah, why’s that so fucking funny, dickwad?” Eddie says.

“What, to like, a woman?” Richie hears himself ask, and yeah, duh, of course Eddie married a woman. Richie’s the only queer at the table.

Stan is elbowing him in the ribs. Yeah, he’s too obvious, but he’s also too drunk to maintain a fucking filter. Stan should have known this would happen when he kept getting Richie shots.

“Fuck you, bro,” Eddie says.

“Fuck you,” Richie calls back. He’s fucked, he’s so fucked cause he’s still in love with Eddie and Eddie is fucking married and he just can’t do this.

“Alright, what about you, Trashmouth, you married?” Bill says.

“There’s no way Richie’s married!” Bev says loudly.

“No, I got married,” Richie says seriously.

“Richie, I don’t believe it,” Bev plays along.

“When.” Eddie demands

“Did you not hear this?” Richie says. He can practically feel Stan rolling his eyes next to him.

“No,” Eddie says.

“You didn’t know I got married?” Richie says, playing it up.

“No!” Eddie says.

“Yeah, no, me and your mom are very, very happy,” Richie says.

The table bursts into laughter. Bill nearly chokes on his beer.

“He totally fell for it!” Ben says.

Stan’s shaking his head fondly.

“Fuck you,” Eddie says.

Richie launches into a Jabba impression. Stan’s elbowing him to cut it out again, but Richie’s too far gone.

“We all get it; my mom’s a great big fat person. Hilarious. Hysterical.” Eddie says sarcastically, and god, Richie has missed him.

Richie starts in on Ben about getting hot until Stan smacks him on the back of the head.

Eddie starts talking about his job and Richie pretends to fall asleep. The Losers are still losers, and Eddie is the same, five seconds away from an angry tirade, he starts in on Ben for laughing at Richie’s stupid joke, then the conversation diverges.

Richie’s lost track of exactly how many shots he’s had but Stan doesn’t slide him another one, so he thinks he’s been cut off. 

Ten minutes later, Richie and Eddie are arm wrestling.

“Let’s take off our shirts and kiss,” Eddie says, and Richie’s brain completely shuts down. It’s obvious that Eddie works out, that he’s in shape, if the shape of his arms under his terrible sweatshirt are any indication. But Richie’s been working out to escape the noise in his head for years as well, so he beats Eddie easily after a moment where he’s a little too overwhelmed that Eddie’s touching him to focus.

Richie, having _definitely_ been cut off, starts to sober up a bit and falls into quiet conversation with Eddie as the group starts catching up with each other individually instead of all together.

“It’s weird, right,” Ben says suddenly. “Now that we’re all here it all comes back faster and faster. I mean all of it.”

“Yeah, you know when Mike called me I threw up? Isn’t that weird? Like I got nervous, I got, like, sick and I threw up. I feel fine now, I feel very relieved to be here with you guys.” Richie says, and glances around the table. “Why’s everybody looking at me like this?”

“When Mike called me, I crashed my car,” Eddie says.

“Seriously?” Bill says.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles.

“Man, I feel you. I mean my heart was pounding right out of my chest,” Ben says.

“I thought it was only me,” Bev says.

Stan is pointedly silent next to Richie.

“It was like pure f-f-f-” Bill starts.

“Fear,” Mike says. “It’s fear. What you felt.”

“Why’d we all feel like that?” Bill asks. “You remember something we all didn’t, don’t you?”

“Something happens to you when you leave this town. Farther away, the hazier it all gets. But me, I never left. So yeah, I remember. I remember all of it.”

“Pennywise,” Bev whispers.

“The fucking clown,” Eddie says.

They are all panicking a little now.

Mike starts explaining why he called them all back.

They’re all sitting stunned while he explains.

“Well that shit got dark fast,” Richie says. “Thanks Mike.”

The bowl of fortune cookies in the center of the table starts to rattle.

“Nope,” Stan says loudly. “We’re out of here. We’ll get the check at the hostess table. Let’s go.” He hauls Richie and Bev up and starts herding them out of the room. The others follow quickly as a cacophony of sounds start coming from the table.

“Don’t look at it,” Bev hisses.

“It’s not real,” Mike says, sounding a little dazed.

They make it to the hostess stand and Stan calmly asks for the check. He pays quietly and shoves them towards the door.

“Hey Richie,” a kid’s voice calls, and he freezes and turns to look. “The fun’s just beginning.”

Richie stares at the kid, scared. He’s not sure what to do now. Stan seems to recover quicker than anyone else.

“You’re a fan of this guy?” he asks, a soft smile on his face.

The kid nods. “Yeah.”

“I’m surprised your parents let you watch him,” Bev says with a wink.

“I don’t think I was supposed to,” the kid says.

“You sound like us as kids,” Bev smiles.

“What’s your name?” Stan asks.

“Dean,” the kid says.

“Nice to meet you, Dean. I’m Stan, this is Bev. We’re old friends of Richie’s.” Stan says.

“Hi,” the kid grins.

“You want a picture, Dean?” Richie says, finally regaining his composure.

“Really?” Dean asks brightly. “That would be awesome!”

“Sure,” Richie smiles and ducks down to get in a photo with the kid when he hands Stan his phone.

“Thanks!” Dean says and runs off back to his parents.

“How did you know he was a fan?” Richie asks as they make their way out to the parking lot.

“Rich,” Stan says wearily. “That was a line from your standup.”

“Oh,” Richie says. “Huh.”

Stan snorts, then he and Bev dissolve into laughter.

“I’m missing something,” Bill says, eyeing them warily.

“Richie doesn’t write his material for his standup,” Bev manages to choke out through her laughter.

“I fucking knew it!” Eddie crows.

“Yeah, alright, trash the Trashmouth,” Richie rolls his eyes.

“So, what now?” Stan says.

“Now we need to remember,” Mike says.

“It’s easier when we’re together,” Stan says.

“Yeah,” Bev says. “Richie and I remembered a lot just by talking and seeing what came back to us.”

“Wait,” Bill says. “You’ve talked?”

“Yeah,” Bev grins.

“We spent the night together,” Richie leers.

“Creep,” Stan says.

“Stan was there too,” Bev winks. “We shared a bed.”

“Can you guys not make things weird?” Stan complains.

“Making things weird is what I do best, Stan the man,” Richie grins and throws his arm around Stan’s shoulders.

Eddie is giving Richie a weird look and Richie cannot deal with it. He does what he does best and deflects.

“So, what now, Mikey? A trip down memory lane?” Richie asks.

“We need to remember what happened that summer,” Mike says.

“Great,” Richie says. “Let’s take it back to the Townhouse and cuddle our way through it.”

Mike looks a little lost. Eddie is looking at Richie like he’s grown a second head. Bev is nodding.

“As much as I hate to say it,” Stan says from under Richie’s arm. “Richie’s right.”

Richie laughs and grins at Stan. Stan glares up at him. Bev giggles beside them.

“You guys,” Bill says.

They look at him curiously.

“You’re really comfortable with each other,” Eddie says.

“Well yeah,” Bev says.

“We were always like this,” Richie says. “Why should it be any different now?”

“Richie is an overly affectionate puppy,” Stan says. “Give him an ounce of attention and he’ll be all over you for the rest of forever.”

“Aw Staniel,” Richie says. “That was almost nice.”

“Beep beep, Rich,” Stan rolls his eyes.

“So back to the Townhouse?” Ben asks.

“Seems like the best idea,” Bev nods.

“Great!” Richie says as the rest of the Losers nod in agreement. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and shoves them at Stan.

Stan rolls his eyes and takes them. Stan turns him and Richie around then slings his free arm around Bev. They seem like they’re handling this much better than the others. Richie knows in his bones that he would have been in a much different headspace if they hadn’t reconnected on their way in. He’s _so_ grateful that it happened the way that it did.

There’s still no one else there when they make it back to the Townhouse, so the Losers quickly commandeer the lounge. Richie slouches into the couch and Eddie slides down next to him. Richie watches out of the corner of his eye as Eddie looks him up and down. Richie carefully doesn’t move. He’d always been overly touchy with his friends and he and Stan and Bev had fallen so easily back into that. But it was different with Eddie. Because Richie’s in love with him. But also because Eddie is cautious, careful, wants to think things through and then make a decision.

Eddie is still looking at him, but he must decide that it’s fine, that he wants that physicality back because he relaxes into the couch next to him. Bev bounces down on Eddie’s other side and Eddie shuffles closer to Richie. Richie slings his arm across the back of the couch to toy with Bev’s hair. She shoots him a grin over Eddie’s head. Eddie settles a little more so now Richie’s arm is touching him, their thighs pressed together. Richie shoots Stan a wide-eyed look. Stan smirks back at him from the armchair he’s settled into and looks pointedly to the blanket draped over the arm of the sofa.

Richie offers the blanket to Bev. She takes it and spreads it out over the three of them. She and Stan smirk at each other and Richie rolls his eyes. And they act like he’s obvious. Mike and Bill take the other sofa and Ben takes the second armchair. They start trading stories, trading memories, circling closer and closer to covering everything that happened that summer.

Mike tells them about the ritual he’s found.

“So, what? We need to come to terms with what we were afraid of that summer?” Richie asks tentatively.

“We have to have tokens,” Mike hedges.

“I think it’s about what Richie said,” Stan says.

“Is that the second time you’ve said I’m right tonight, Staniel,” Richie grins.

“Law of averages,” Stan shrugs. “Even Trashmouths have to be right sometimes.”

“We fought that summer,” Mike said. “And we split up, and we have to remember that.”

“That’s the thing though,” Stan says. “It’s more of the same. Anytime we were alone we were vulnerable to It. And It used the same shit against us every time.”

“I went to Stan’s Bar Mitzvah,” Richie remembers suddenly.

“Rich was the only Loser who came,” Stan says.

“It was awesome, he said fuck in the middle of his speech,” Richie grins.

“You stood up and clapped like an asshole,” Stan rolls his eyes.

“Damn right I did. That was fucking epic. Your dad was so pissed,” Richie laughs.

“I was afraid of growing up. And afraid of being alone, of losing you guys,” Stan says softly.

“My dad,” Bev says. “It was my dad.”

Richie squeezes her shoulder. She smiles at him gratefully.

“Georgie,” Bill says. “It was my fault.”

“What the fuck, Bill?” Richie says.

“That was never your fault,” Stan says.

“B-b-b-but, I,” Bill starts.

“You were sick, and he went out to play. He’d gone out to play before. It’s not your fault that a fucking shapeshifting clown attacked him,” Stan says with a truly spectacular eye roll.

“I was afraid of losing you guys,” Ben says. “I was always alone before you guys, but once I’d found you, god, I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

“I think that’s why we were able to overpower it,” Richie says. “Because we were all afraid of losing each other and when we were all together It couldn’t prey on that.”

Eddie is slightly shaking against him. Richie looks down at him in concern.

“Eds?” He says softly. “You okay?”

Eddie shakes his head. Richie moves to rub comforting circles into his back before he can start wheezing in panic.

The others shift into quiet conversation amongst themselves so no one but Richie is paying attention to Eddie’s panic attack. God, it’s so familiar, them taking care of each other like this. Richie is so grateful to have these Losers back in his life.

Eddie’s breathing levels out and he stops shaking. Bev leans against him on his other side to help ground him. He smiles at her gratefully.

“Thanks, Rich,” he says softly.

“No problem, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie says easily, keeps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders.

“It was a leper. I was so afraid of being sick and my mom had me so in my head about it,” Eddie says. He takes a deep breath. “And she was always on me about other boys. I think, I think she had an idea about me. I think she knew-” Eddie cuts himself off. He takes another deep, steadying breath.

“I think she knew I was gay,” He finishes shakily.

Richie’s brain flat lines. His ears are ringing. He vaguely hears Bev congratulating Eddie and Stan thanking him for trusting them with this. It seems all the losers have said something but him because Eddie stiffens slightly under his arm.

“Rich?” Eddie says softly. He’s scared; Richie can hear it in his voice.

“I thought it was just me,” Richie practically whispers. He can barely get his voice to work.

Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion.

“Are, wait, what are you saying, Rich?” Eddie asks.

Richie coughs out a laugh. “Eddie, I’m fucking gay. I thought I was the only one. Holy shit.” He says. “It was never clowns; I lied when we talked about it. But I couldn’t tell you then.”

Stan lets out a wordless cheer and Bev lets out a joyful whoop. The two of them jump up and grab each other in an excited hug.

“I’m missing something,” Bill says for the second time this evening, this time amused.

“I told Bev and Stan way, way back,” Richie says. “They’ve been encouraging me to tell you guys.”

“Proud of you, Rich,” Stan says and smacks a kiss to Richie’s forehead.

“Thanks, Stan,” Richie beams up at him.

“Eddie, aren’t you married to a woman?” Mike says.

“Technically?” Eddie says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I told her I wanted a divorce right before I left. Like I knew, but I was hiding it and I think getting married just kinda happened to me. Like, I never went out of my way looking for anything. But mom introduced me to Myra and suddenly we were dating and then we were getting married and it all kind of just, happened. I never really, like had a say in it.”

“That fucking sucks,” Ben says. “Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“I get that,” Bev says. “I basically married my dad, you guys. I left him when I left to come here.”

Richie grips Bev’s shoulder again, she pats his hand gratefully.

“My wife told me she wanted a divorce right before I left,” Bill admits quietly.

“Are all of your lives a disaster?” Stan asks, incredulous.

“Staniel, I think you are the only functional one around here,” Richie says.

The group bursts into laughter and the tension eases. They decide they’ll try to get some sleep so they can tackle dealing with It with fresh minds in the morning. As they all head up the stairs, Bev and Richie lock eyes then look at Stan. Stan sighs heavily.

“Fine,” he says.

“Yes!” Bev and Richie cheer.

“You guys want to have an old school Losers sleepover?” Stan asks.

“What?” Bill says.

“Like we used to when we stayed at Bill’s?” Ben asks.

“Exactly,” Bev grins.

“I’m in,” Mike says easily.

“Me too,” Eddie smiles.

“Alright,” Bill says. “But I don’t think we’ll all fit in the bed.”

“Not with that attitude,” Richie says.

“We’ll just drag some of the other mattresses into my room,” Stan says, rolling his eyes at Richie. “Go get changed.”

Richie salutes and marches down the hall to his own room. He changes into his sweatpants and tries to talk himself out of a panic attack when he realizes he just came out. It was fine, it was all fine. They were really cool about the whole thing. They still loved him. He doesn’t need to panic, doesn’t need to hide it. It’s not the eighties anymore. It’s not like Derry is the safest place to be gay, but he doesn’t live in Derry anymore. Fuck, when he gets back home, he’s going to start seeing a therapist.

He’s psyching himself up to head to Stan’s room when there’s a knock on his door.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he says and pulls the door open.

Eddie is standing on the other side of the door nervously.

“Hey,” Eddie says quietly.

“Hey,” Richie says.

“Can, uh, can we talk for a second?” Eddie says.

“Sure, Eds,” Richie says, and steps back to let Eddie into the room.

“I-” Eddie starts, then sighs.

Richie stays silent, lets Eddie work out whatever it is he needs to say.

“I thought I was the only one too,” Eddie says softly.

“Wha- is this about me being gay?” Richie says. And duh, of course it is, Richie is such a dumbass.

“Yeah, dipshit,” Eddie smiles. “I had no idea.”

“I think you were the only one,” Richie smiles. “Bev and Stan always told me I was so fucking obvious.”

“But you told them, right?” Eddie says.

“I needed someone to talk to. Stan had me figured out and Bev caught me in the midst of a freak-out,” Richie says.

“Why didn’t,” Eddie takes a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t tell you, Eds,” Richie laughs self-deprecatingly. “I couldn’t tell you; I had a massive fucking crush on you.”

“On _me_?” Eddie says incredulously.

“Yeah, dipshit,” Richie parrots.

“No fucking way. You’re bullshitting me,” Eddie says.

“I swear I’m not, Eds. You can ask Stan and Bev. I had the biggest crush on you,” Richie says.

“What the fuck, Rich!” Eddie says. “You should have said something, holy shit.”

“What was I supposed to do, Eddie?” Richie says defensively. “Just come up to you one day like, hey, Eds, I know we live in this shitty backwards town and it’s the fucking eighties but I’m in love with you and want to date you and spend the rest of my fucking life with you.”

“You, you were in love with me?” Eddie says softly.

“I-” Richie says. Shit. He hadn’t meant to tell him that.

“Rich,” Eddie says. “You were in love with me?”

“Yeah,” Richie whispers.

“You,” Eddie says, eyes brimming with tears. “Really?”

“Yeah, Eds,” Richie says, now refusing to meet Eddie’s eyes.

“Do you-” Eddie’s cut off by a knock on the door.

“Rich, you coming?” Bill calls through the door.

“Yeah, Big Bill. You need me to bring my mattress?” He calls back.

“Nah, I think we’ve got enough. You know where Eddie is?” Bill says.

Richie looks at Eddie and he shakes his head.

“No, maybe he’s in the bathroom,” Richie says.

“Maybe,” Bill says. “See you in a minute, Rich.”

Richie looks at Eddie.

“We are so not done with this conversation, asshole,” Eddie says.

“Okay,” Richie nods. Honestly, whatever the fuck Eddie wants.

“I’m serious,” Eddie says. “We’re going to finish this.”

Richie nods, then freezes in shock when Eddie surges forward to plant a kiss right on his mouth. It’s not a good kiss, what with Richie frozen, and Eddie pulls back after a few seconds. He looks hard at Richie.

“Shit, should I not have-” He starts but Richie cuts him off with a kiss. This one is much better than the first one.

“Fuck, Eds,” Richie breathes when they separate.

“Not right now,” Eddie teases.

“You’re fucking killing me,” Richie groans.

“I really hope not,” Eddie smiles. “You’re kind of the love of my life. I really prefer you alive.”

“I, Eddie, what?” Richie says.

“You thought I came in and kissed you just because you said you were gay?” Eddie says.

Honestly, Richie isn’t sure what he thought, he’s not sure he’s even capable of thought.

“I didn’t really have much time to think about it,” Richie says softly. “I was a little preoccupied by confessing my apparently undying love for you.”

“You, still, Rich?” Eddie says nervously.

“Yeah, Eds, I do,” Richie says softly.

“Ok, ok, seriously. If we wait too much longer, they’ll come looking for us. We gotta go. But we’re still not done with this conversation. Tomorrow, or after, or whatever, we’re having a real conversation about this,” Eddie says.

Richie nods. Eddie nods and turns toward the door.

“Hey, Eddie,” Richie says quietly.

Eddie turns. “Yeah, Rich?”

“Just so we’re totally clear, and just in case something happens, I love you,” Richie says. He’s shaking, he’s terrified, but he’s so close to what he’s wanted for so long, so he has to take this chance. Even if all he gets is this one moment.

Eddie’s expression goes soft, puppylike. “Rich,” he says gently. “I love you too.”

Richie is pretty sure he’s crying. Eddie confirms that by reaching up to wipe away a tear tracing its way down his face.

“I mean it that we’re talking about this later. I’ve got you back, Rich; I’m not letting you go again,” Eddie says.

Richie nods, swallows thickly past the lump in his throat.

“Ok. I’m going to go and join the others. Wait a minute before you come in, ok?” Eddie says.

Richie nods.

“Okay,” Eddie says and presses a quick kiss against Richie’s cheek. “See you in there.”

Richie thinks his brain may have gone permanently offline. He watches Eddie leave then turns to the bathroom. He stares at himself in the mirror. Yeah, he looks like he’s been crying. He splashes some water on his face and takes a deep breath to try and center himself. He leaves the bathroom before he starts to spiral and listens for Eddie to join the others.

“There you are!” he hears Ben say.

“Ok, dumbass, you’ve got this,” he says to himself and heads to Stan’s room.

He walks in intending to make a joke but looks at all his friends standing in the room and gets too choked up to say anything. Bev looks at him then jumps up to hug him.

“What’s wrong, Rich?” she asks gently.

“Nothing,” Richie manages to choke out. “I’ve just missed you guys.”

Bev squeezes him hard. The others join in for a, frankly, ridiculous group hug. Richie is full of too many emotions. He loves these people fiercely and is so, so happy to have them back, but he’s terrified of what tomorrow may bring for them. He’s been doing a poor job of holding himself together this whole time. Stan elbows him, which, unclear when Stan got close enough to do that, but it makes Richie look at him. Stan glares at him like he knows what Richie’s thinking, and really, he probably does. He and Stan had always had that kind of a friendship.

Richie clears his throat loudly. “Okay, okay, I’m good, too much affection, take it away,” He says.

The others laugh and disperse. Bev pulls Richie back to the bed, apparently he’s back with Bev and Stan. Mike and Bill settle into another mattress and Ben and Eddie take the third. They fall asleep a lot easier than Richie was expecting.

They’re woken the next morning by a crash from down the hall. Everyone sits straight up. They’re casting wide eyed looks at each other. Richie does a quick headcount to make sure they’re all in the room. They are.

“Did we lock the door last night?” Bev asks seriously.

Mike is closest to the door, so he goes to check. They did not. Mike locks the door quickly.

“Ok, what’s the plan?” Stan says. “We can’t just hole up in this room forever.”

“Maybe it’s the cleaning lady?” Richie suggests. He knows he’s wrong, but he has to try.

Stan shoots him an unimpressed look.

“We have to get changed and get moving,” Mike says.

“We’re not going anywhere alone,” Stan says. “Partner up.”

“I’ll go with Bill,” Mike says. Bill nods at him.

“I’ll go with Ben,” Bev says. Ben looks at her in surprise, but nods.

“That leaves me, Eddie, and Stan,” Richie says. Stan looks at him gratefully.

“Losers gotta stick together,” Bill smiles.

“Ok. Let’s move. We’ll go get dressed and meet back up here,” Mike says. “Keep your eyes on your partner. We don’t know who’s in here with us.”

Mike, Bill, Ben, and Bev leave the room and Richie locks the door behind them. Stan grabs a change of clothes and ducks into the bathroom to get ready quickly. He steps back out.

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “There’s no way that was two minutes, dude.” He says.

Stan grins at him. “You gonna time me next time?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Where to next?” he asks.

“Richie’s,” Stan says decisively. “His is the furthest out, so there first.”

Eddie and Richie nod and they ease out of the room, locking the door behind them.

Richie unlocks his door and eases it open. The room looks empty. They step inside and Stan stays by the door as Richie ducks into his bathroom to check for intruders.

“Clear,” Richie says. Stan locks the door.

Richie grabs some clothes and ducks into the bathroom. He makes it through his morning routine in record time. When he steps out of the bathroom Eddie raises an eyebrow at him.

“That definitely wasn’t two minutes,” He says.

“Nope!” Richie says then smacks an obnoxious kiss against his cheek.

Eddie shoves at him and Stan rolls his eyes. They make their way cautiously back out of Richie’s room and down to Eddie’s. The door is open. Eddie looks at them wide eyed. Richie steps forward and pushes the door open slowly. The room itself is empty, Eddie’s bags sitting untouched in the corner. Richie steps cautiously into the room.

“Richie!” Eddie hisses.

“There’s no one in here, Eds,” Richie says.

Mike yells from down the hall. They look at each other then take off for Bill’s room. Eddie is the first through the door, with Richie and Stan close behind. Mike is wrestling with Henry fucking Bowers. Mike’s got a gash in his arm. He’s on his back on the floor and Henry is crouched over him trying to drive a knife into his chest.

Eddie surges forward and pulls at Bowers. Bowers falls backward into Eddie and they both go crashing to the floor. Richie is momentarily frozen, torn between checking on Mike and helping Eddie. Stan goes for Mike, so Richie moves in to help Eddie.

Bowers has stuck himself with his own knife in the fall. He’s still struggling, trying to get to the knife in his own chest. Richie knows intuitively that if Bowers manages to get ahold of it, he’ll go for Eddie, so Richie has to beat him to it. Eddie’s got Bowers’ arms in some kind of hold, which makes it easier for Richie to get between his hands and pull the knife back out. Once Richie’s standing back up with the knife, Eddie shoves Bowers off of himself and rolls back to his feet. It’s a surprisingly badass move, and Richie’s brain locks up for a second. Then he notices Bowers moving and refocuses.

Bowers is hurt, badly hurt. Eddie’d managed to get the knife deep into his chest. But he’s still moving so their work isn’t done yet.

“What do we do now?” Eddie hisses to Richie.

“I don’t fucking know,” Richie hisses back, panic making his voiced high pitched and shaky.

Bowers is back up. He lumbers around to face them.

“Look at that, two fucking fairies for the price of one,” He leers. “It’s your time.”

Richie is frozen again. Eddie yanks the knife out of his slack grip and manages to get it between him and Bowers as Bowers lunges for him.

The knife goes deep into Bowers’ gut. Eddie twists it a little and Bowers drops to his knees. He’s bleeding a lot now.

Ben and Bev come through the door.

“Holy shit!” Bev says.

“Fuck you,” Bowers snarls with what appears to be the last of his energy. He slumps to the floor.

“Is he-?” Ben asks.

“I fucking hope so,” Eddie says. The knife is still in his hand.

Ben gently takes it from him and rolls Bowers onto his back. He checks for a pulse.

“I think he is,” Ben says. “Holy shit.”

“How did he even get here?” Bev says. “I though that he took the blame for all the child murders that summer.”

“He did,” Mike says. “He was up at Juniper Hill. Must’ve broken out.”

“Shit, Mike,” Richie says. “Are you okay?”

“He just got me in the arm,” Mike says.

“It’s more like a scrape than anything. Not very deep,” Stan says.

“Doesn’t even need stitches,” Mike grins. “Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie blushes and nods.

“Wait,” Richie says. “Where the fuck is Bill?”

“In the fucking bathroom!” Bill yells. “Can someone let me out now?”

“Did you lock him in the bathroom?” Stan says to Mike.

“Not intentionally?” Mike says.

“Sure,” Stan says knowingly and moves to let Bill out.

“Eddie, you wanna get changed?” Richie asks Eddie softly. Eddie’s breathing has picked up and Richie knows they’re on the edge of a panic attack.

Eddie nods.

“Hey, We’re gonna go get Eddie changed,” Richie says to the others. The others nod and Richie maneuvers Eddie out of the room.

Once they get to Eddie’s room, Richie shuts and locks the door behind them.

“Hey,” he says softly. “You okay?”

“I just,” Eddie swallows. “I just killed him.”

“You were helping Mike. And he would have killed you if you hadn’t gotten him first,” Richie says.

“Not helping,” Eddie squeaks.

“Ok, ok,” Richie thinks. “Hey, it was pretty badass.”

“What?”

“Yeah, like I was impressed. Are you hiding some serious abs under that terrible sweatshirt? Cause I’ve been working out, but I definitely can’t roll up off the floor like that.”

“I mean, I work out,” Eddie says, brow furrowed in confusion.

“I guess it pays off,” Richie says. He looks speculatively at Eddie’s stomach. Then shakes himself out of it when he remembers where they are.

“Sorry,” he says quietly.

“Wait, Rich, what just happened?” Eddie says.

“Where do you want me to start from?” Richie says dutifully. If Eddie needs to talk through it, he’s there for him.

“Were you, were you saying I’m, I’m attractive?” Eddie asks.

Wait, what. “Wait, what?” Richie asks.

“Just then, about working out,” Eddie says.

“Uh, dude, yeah,” Richie says. He’s confessed to a 30-year crush on the guy, of course he thinks he’s attractive.

“Huh,” Eddie says.

“What?” Richie asks, very, very confused.

“Let’s add that to the conversation we’re not done with, ok?” Eddie says softly.

“Ok,” Richie says. “Hey, you should like, get changed and shit.”

“Right, yes, on it,” Eddie grabs clothes out of one of his suitcases and ducks into the bathroom.

Richie plops down in the stiff chair in the corner to wait. He loses track of time, lost in thought. He comes to with Eddie standing, smirking, in front of him.

“Whatcha thinking about, Rich?” Eddie says playfully.

“Nothing in particular, just remembering things.” Richie says.

“You’re cute when you’re thinking,” Eddie says.

Richie’s brain stops working again. He’s pretty sure he’s gaping at Eddie right now, but he can’t even think to close his mouth because his brain has gone full blue screen of death, reboot required.

Eddie giggles, which does not help, and then leans down to kiss Richie’s cheek.

“Come on, Trashmouth,” Eddie says, pulling him up. “Let’s get back to the others so we can get on with whatever shit we have to do and get back to this conversation we’re not through with.”

Richie mindlessly lets Eddie drag him back to Stan’s room, where Stan is carefully bandaging Mike’s arm. Richie must have put on a good enough front, because Eddie allows him to walk into the room.

“So what now?” Ben asks.

“We may remember, but we need to have tokens so we can summon and trap It,” Mike says.

“So, we need tokens that represent what we we’re afraid of?” Stan asks.

“Something that represents us from that summer,” Mike says.

Stan nods thoughtfully as he finishes taping down the bandages on Mike’s arm.

“Ok. Let’s split into groups again,” Stan says.

“We were alone that summer,” Mike says.

“It is not safe for us to wander around alone. If we want to make it out of this alive, we’ve got to stick together,” Stan says.

“Stick with your buddy.” Eddie says.

“We can go in the same groups, if that’s ok with everyone?” Stan says.

The others nod.

“Actually,” Mike says. “I already have mine. So, Stan, if you want to come with me and Bill that gives each group two tokens to find.”

Stan nods. “That ok with you, Rich?”

Richie nods.

“Okay. We’ll meet back up in a couple hours,” Mike says.

They file out of the Townhouse and split off into groups.

“Where to, Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie asks.

“I,” Eddie starts. “I think mine is an inhaler. I’ll call one in at the pharmacy.”

Richie sits on the curb while Eddie makes his call. He’s wracking his brain for an idea on what he should use as his token, when a memory hits him so hard he nearly falls over. Bowers calling him, calling him, _that_ at the arcade, the first time he saw Pennywise, the lumberjack statue, the whole thing. His throat closes up a little, his breathing speeds.

He vaguely registers Eddie crouching in front of him to meet his eyes. Eddie is saying something, but Richie can’t hear it. His stomach churns and he shoves Eddie out of the way before losing the contents of his stomach for the third time in last two days.

“Aw, gross, Rich,” Eddie says, but fishes a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes at Richie’s mouth.

“Just living up to the Trashmouth name,” Richie jokes weakly.

“What happened, Rich?” Eddie asks gently.

“I, I just remembered something,” Richie sighs.

“Must’ve been something, alright,” Eddie looks at him appraisingly.

“I know what my token is,” Richie says. “Come on.”

They walk towards town and Eddie laughs when they approach the arcade.

“I should have guessed,” Eddie says.

“You couldn’t have guessed,” Richie says wryly. “I spent a ton of time here, yeah, but this, no one was there for it. Bowers, man, he.”

Eddie puts a gentle hand on his arm. “Rich, you don’t have to tell me,” Eddie says.

“I know, but I, I need to,” Richie says. “It’s hard to explain why, but, I feel like I need to tell, someone.”

“Ok, Rich, just, I’m not gonna pressure you to tell me anything,” Eddie says.

“I know,” Richie smiles. He takes a deep breath. “I, I was playing Streetfighter with this guy I hadn’t met before. He was nice, things were fine. The game ended and I asked if he wanted to play another round. Then Bowers came in. And apparently, the guy was his cousin, and he started spouting some shit about me being weird and how he wasn’t my boyfriend and Bowers gave me shit and called me, well, you know what, in front of everybody. Then I left and went to the park and It brought the fucking lumberjack statue to life and it chased me across the park.”

Richie is shaking a little as he tells Eddie this. Eddie pulls him in for a hug.

“Hey, hey, Rich, it’s ok. They can’t do anything to you now. You’re ok, there’s nothing wrong with you, nothing wrong with either of us,” Eddie says soothingly.

Richie blinks back tears. “Thanks, Eds,” he says.

Eddie pulls back and smiles at him. “Don’t call me that, asshole.”

“Aw, you love it,” Richie says. He slings an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and opens the door to the arcade.

Richie gets a token out of the machine and they duck back outside. They head down to the pharmacy and Eddie goes to the counter to get his inhaler while Richie wanders aimlessly up the aisles to give him a little privacy. Greta Keene walks past him and he half shrinks away. God. He’d thought he’d grown past all that, but being back in Derry seems to have put him back in total loser mode. He looks toward the counter to place Eddie and startles a little when he doesn’t spot him. He does a quick scan of the store; Eddie is nowhere to be seen. Richie starts to panic a little just as Eddie bursts through the basement doorway. He’s covered in what looks like black slime.

“Eddie?” He asks, a little freaked out. “What the fuck happened?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I need a shower,” he says. He sounds a little strangled. Richie figures that’s fair, if he’s freaked out, he can only imagine Eddie is more freaked out.

“Okay,” Richie says.

They quickly make their way back to the Townhouse. Richie keeps looking at Eddie out of the corner of his eye. He’s on alert in case Eddie slips into a panic attack, but judging by the way Eddie’s walking with purpose next to him, he seems to be holding it together.

They slip back inside the Townhouse and Ben and Bev are sitting on the steps.

Bev gasps when she sees Eddie. “Eddie! What happened?” she says.

Eddie shakes his head.

Ben and Bev get up from the stairs and Eddie starts up them.

“He’s gonna grab a shower,” Richie says, following close behind him.

Bev and Ben nod and watch them go. Richie stays close, probably too close, but Eddie hasn’t said anything and Richie is still worried about him. Eddie lets him hover as they make their way into Eddie’s room. Eddie washes his hands then picks out clean clothes and shuts himself in the bathroom. Richie stands awkwardly in the middle of the room and listens to the shower start.

“Richie?” Eddie’s voice calls from the bathroom.

“Yeah, Eds?” he calls back.

“Can you, can you come in here please?” Eddie sounds scared.

Richie tries the door and it’s unlocked. He eases it open and pokes his head through the crack.

“Hey, you asked me to come in?” he checks.

“Yeah, just, if you’re in here then it’s not on the other side of the curtain, you know?” Eddie says shakily.

“Absolutely, Spaghetti man,” Richie says and slips into the bathroom.

“Don’t call me that, asshole,” Eddie snaps.

Richie grins and settles down on the closed toilet to wait.

“Rich,” Eddie says.

“Yeah, Eds?”

“Why the fuck aren’t you talking? Who are you?” Eddie says, poorly disguising the fear in his voice as annoyance.

“Sorry, Eds,” Richie says. He’s not sure where to go from here. Part of the rambling he used to do was tied to his ADHD and the other part he’s worked hard to tamp down. Talk doesn’t just come streaming unchecked from his mouth anymore.

“What’s LA like?” Eddie says.

“Hot,” Richie says. “Busy.”

“Really painting a picture with your words there, Rich,” Eddie says.

“Just for you, baby,” Richie says, preoccupied enough that his filter is temporarily disabled.

Eddie’s breath catches audibly. Richie can hear it through the sound of the shower. He swallows thickly.

“Rich,” Eddie says, this time low.

“Don’t do this to me, Eds,” Richie says. It comes out huskier than he’d thought it would, but everything about Eddie gets to him in ways he’d both forgotten and hadn’t realized.

“I’m not doing anything!” Eddie protests. “Come on, please, talk about something!”

“Talk about what?” Richie asks.

“Anything,” Eddie says.

“You like the sound of my voice, Eds?” Richie says.

“Richie, I need you to talk to distract me so I don’t have a fucking panic attack in the fucking shower,” Eddie says.

It’s like he’s been doused with a bucket of cold water.

“No problemo, Eduardo!” Richie says obnoxiously. “So you wanna hear all about what me and your mom get up to in the big LA?”

Eddie groans.

“You asked for it, Eddie Spaghetti! Can’t take it back now.” Richie says.

“I should have fucking known,” Eddie says.

Richie laughs. “Nah, man, LA’s fine. A lot of big fancy houses, cool things do, cool things to see. Honestly, man, it’s kinda lonely. Especially compared to when I was on SNL.”

“No friends, no dates?” Eddie asks.

“Not really. I meet with my manager and my writers, I go to my local shows, I go on tour, I occasionally work on film or tv sets,” Richie shrugs. “It more than pays the bills.”

“Rich, are you, are you happy?” Eddie asks.

“I don’t think I’ve been happy in a long time, Eds,” Richie confesses. He’s not sure how to put into words the aching loneliness he’s felt since he left Derry the first time, not sure how to explain that relationships are so shallow in his industry, how it’s all about what you can get from the other person in every conversation. He’s been missing his family this whole time, these people who know him to his core, and love him despite and because of everything he is. He’s about to fucking cry, of course. Okay, he can do this.

He clears his throat and changes the subject. “So, Bev and Ben were back here pretty quickly.” He figures he can get Eddie to speculate on what their tokens are.

“How long do you think it’ll take before they figure their shit out?” Eddie says.

Wait, what? “Bev and Ben?” Richie asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Ben’s always had a crush on Bev.”

“Oh, yeah,” Richie says. Now that he thinks about it, before Bev left, she was shooting a lot of longing looks Ben’s way. “And Bev definitely had a thing for the new kid, but also Bill.” He’s pretty sure that Bev and Bill were briefly a thing that summer.

“Everyone had a thing for Bill at some point,” Eddie says. “It’s like a requirement.”

Richie laughs. “When did you have a thing for Bill?” he asks, because, yeah, Eddie’s right.

“When did you?” Eddie shoots back and the water shuts off.

Richie is now faced with the fact that Eddie is about to need to get out of the shower. His eyes go wide. He’ll bail.

“Oh, uh, do you want me to go?” he says.

Eddie sticks his arm out of the curtain. “Hand me my towel,” He says.

Richie scrambles to grab the towel and pushes it into his hand. Eddie must dry off in the tub because after a minute he starts to open the curtain.

“You sure you don’t want me to go?” Richie squeaks. He’s so obvious. God, he can’t deal with Eddie stepping out of the shower in just a towel.

“Nah, I want you to tell me when you had a crush on Bill,” Eddie says. He pulls the curtain open and steps out of the shower.

Richie whips his head up and glares at a spot on the ceiling. He will not look; he will not look. He hears the water run in the sink which mean’s Eddie’s probably brushing his teeth again.

“Uh, right when I first started hanging out with you guys,” He says distractedly, then realizes what he’ll have to admit for this. “I fucking, I fucking had a crush on you cause you were so fucking cute, but you were so mean when Bill asked me to hang out with you guys. And Bill was so nice to me. I think he was trying to make up for you being so mean.”

“Sorry, Rich,” Eddie says in a tone that says he’s probably blushing. Richie wants to look, starts to look, then remembers himself and fixes his gaze back on the spot on the ceiling.

Eddie must clock the movement or something because Eddie’s warm hand is suddenly on his chin.

“Hey,” he says gently. “Rich, it’s okay. It’s okay, you can look, I won’t be mad.”

Richie squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head a little.

“I promise, Rich,” Eddie says. “If I wasn’t comfortable with the thought of you seeing me like this yet, then I would have made you leave the bathroom.”

Yet. Richie swallows audibly. “Eddie,” He says, he sounds broken even to his own ears.

“Rich,” Eddie urges gently. “Look at me.”

So Richie does, he tilts his head back down and opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s. Eddie _is_ blushing, but it may just be from the heat of the shower. Steam is still swirling around the room and Eddie’s hand on Richie’s chin is too warm, which could be because Eddie’s touching him, or because he takes his showers way too hot. He doesn’t let his gaze travel, keeps his eyes focused on Eddie’s face, cause maybe, maybe Richie’s the one who’s not ready for this yet. God, yet.

“It’s okay,” Eddie says again. “I’m not trying to pressure you into anything Rich, but I don’t want you to hold yourself back because you’re afraid of scaring me off. I’m not letting you go again.”

Richie thinks, no, yeah, he’s definitely crying. Eddie smiles gently at him and wipes the tears off his cheeks then presses a soft kiss to his forehead.

Eddie pulls away. He turns back to the mirror to brush his hair.  
“I had a crush on Bill then. Back before you started hanging out with us. I was so mad when he brought you around. I was so jealous.” Eddie says. “But it didn’t end up lasting that much longer.”

“Oh yeah?” Richie asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie’s definitely blushing. “Bill ditched me to work on a school project with a girl and I was so mad because he used to walk me home every day. But you found me and walked me home. Then you never stopped walking me home. Then after that one really bad asthma attack I had you started carrying a spare inhaler around for me. And bam, that was it, I was stupid in love with you.”

“Holy fuck, Eds,” Richie says, looking at him wide-eyed.

“I know.” Eddie laughs self-deprecatingly.

“God, I was so mad at Bill that day,” Richie admits.

“So your crush on Bill didn’t last long,” Eddie teases.

“Nah, how could it have, with you around,” Richie says.

“Jesus, Rich,” Eddie says.

“Sorry,” Richie says.

“No, don’t apologize you huge fucking sap,” Eddie lets out a soft laugh.

Richie’s not sure what to do here. He looks up at Eddie in confusion.

Eddie turns toward him and seems to remember he’s only in a towel. He blushes again. And holy shit, Richie’s apparently gotten over his hang up from earlier, cause he can’t stop looking at Eddie. And yeah, Eddie’s hot, but he hadn’t realized exactly how hot he is.

“Eddie, holy shit, how much do you work out?” he blurts, there goes his filter again.

“Uh, a lot, actually,” Eddie says like it’s a confession. “If I’m at the gym, I’m not at home.” Ah, ok, that’s why.

“Lemme tell ya, it’s really paying off,” Richie says, eyeballing Eddie’s abs, his abs!

“Alright, go,” Eddie laughs. “Let me put my clothes on.”

Richie grins up at him and salutes. He slips out of the bathroom. He plops back down in his chair from earlier to wait.

Eddie doesn’t take long. He comes out of the bathroom and walks determinedly over to Richie.

“What’s up, Eds?” he asks.

Eddie doesn’t say anything. Instead he hauls Richie out of the chair and surges up to kiss him. Richie could really fucking get used to this.

Eddie pulls back when they’re breathless and rests his forehead against Richie’s chest. “I should have known you’d be a closet romantic,” He says.

“Is that a bad thing?” Richie asks hesitantly. It could be, he has no idea. It’s not like he has any experience here.

“No,” Eddie says, pulling back to look Richie in the eye. “Absolutely not. I fucking love it.”

Relief rushes through Richie. He can now hear something going on downstairs, and he wants desperately to ignore it and he almost can, until Stan yells.

“Bill, I swear to god!”

The front door slams right after that and Richie knows they’ve gotta go figure out what’s going on.

“Richie! Eddie!” Ben knocks on the door.

Richie reluctantly releases Eddie, and Eddie pulls the door open.

“What’s happening, Ben?” Eddie asks.

“You guys okay?” Ben asks.

“We’re fine, why?” Eddie says.

“It got to Bill downstairs,” Ben sighs. “We were worried about you guys for a second. Should’ve known Richie’d take care of you though.” Ben smirks.

What an asshole. Like he’s not exactly the same way about Bev.

“Pot or kettle today, Haystack?” Richie shoots at him.

Ben grins briefly at him, then shakes himself out of it.

“Bill took off for the fair. Wouldn’t let any of us go with him. Something about needing to save a kid.” Ben explains.

“He ran off by himself?” Richie asks. How fucking stupid is Bill?

“Yeah,” Ben sighs. “Stan barely managed to grab Mike before he followed Bill right out the door.”

“It’s trying to separate us,” Eddie says. Which, shit, of course it is.

“That’s what Stan thinks,” Ben nods.

“That happened to us at the pharmacy. I’m not sure why we thought It couldn’t get us here,” Richie says.

He’s on the edge of panicking, and he can feel his breathing speed up. Eddie grabs Richie’s hand to steady him and Richie squeezes his hand gratefully.

Ben looks at their joined hands and grins. Eddie rolls his eyes at Ben.

“Are we going after Bill?” Eddie asks.

“I came to get you guys. The others were trying to come up with a plan. Come on,” Ben says.

They follow Ben downstairs where Stan is angrily pacing the lounge.

Richie pulls away from Eddie with an apologetic smile. He’s gotta help Stan.

“Stan, hey,” Richie says gently.

Stan stops pacing and looks up at him. “What now, Rich?” he says, eyes wide in terror and frustration.

“First, we don’t panic. Second, we come up with a plan,” Richie says and slings his arm around Stan’s shoulders, pulling him in and trying to get him to calm down. The touch seems to help because Stan’s shoulders drop, a little of the tension draining out of him.

“Mike, now that we went on the scavenger hunt from hell, what’s the next step?” Richie asks, focusing on actually making a plan. They’ve gone about things half-cocked this whole time and they’ve gotta get it together if they’re going to actually make this happen.

“We have to perform the ritual,” Mike says.

“Okay, does everyone have their token or whatever?” Richie asks.

Everyone except Mike nods. Mike looks guilty.

“It’s at the library, with the vessel we need for the ritual. I, I figured we’d all find our artifacts and come back here then swing by the library on the way.” Mike says.

“That’s fine, you couldn’t have known Bill’s brain would fall out of his fucking head,” Stan spits.

“Okay, emotions are high, but we can figure this out, Stan the man,” Richie says, rubbing Stan’s arm.

“We should go get Bill, right?” Bev says.

“We should.” Eddie says. “But let’s swing by the library on the way. The fair will be crowded and there’s only so much trouble Bill can get into there.”

Richie sends a grateful smile Eddie’s way and Eddie smiles back.

“Okay,” Richie says. “I’ll drive. We’ll all fit in my rental.”

“It’s a good thing you got such a big car, Rich,” Bev smirks.

Richie shrugs, he had felt like they’d need one car for some reason and he’s glad that they have it now. He herds the others out of the Townhouse and into the car. He speeds a little on their way to the library, but there’s no traffic and the cops will be at the fair, so he’s not too worried. They head inside to grab what they’ll need for whatever bullshit they’ve gotta do next.

Mike has a box full of flashlights and headlamps and climbing gear. And wow, that’s way more prepared than they had been as kids and thinking about it now, it’s kind of a miracle they hadn’t gotten themselves killed before they even got to Pennywise.

They load Mike’s supplies into the back of Richie’s SUV. Mike grabs his Indian relic and his token. They pile back into the car. Before Richie can start the engine, Mike’s phone rings.

“Where are you?” Mike answers.

There’s some yelling, and they sit in tense silence.

“Stay there, we’ll come get you,” Mike says, then pulls the phone away from his ear and glares at it.

“What’s up, Mikey?” Richie asks, cranking the engine and waiting for direction.

“Bill’s going after It alone,” Mike says.

“There’s only one place he’ll go,” Bev says.

“Same place we need to perform the ritual,” Mike says.

“Neibolt,” Stan says. “Fuck.”

“You can say that again, Staniel,” Richie grumbles, then drives towards the house.

Bill is climbing the porch stairs when they get there. They hop out of the car noisily and Bill turns to give them some speech about how this whole thing is his fault and he shouldn’t have drug them into it, and yeah, but he did, 27 fucking years ago, and its way too late for them to back out now.

Richie’s freaking out a little again, and he must be too quiet or something, cause Eddie wordlessly takes his hand again. It shakes him out of his own head and he squeezes Eddie’s hand as the others spout off about having to do this together like that wasn’t established forever ago. It seems like it’s enough to get through Bill’s thick skull though because suddenly Bill’s addressing Richie.

“Richie said it best when we were here last,” Bill says.

He looks up at him, still distracted by, well, memories, and Eddie, and the thrill of terror that’s running through him. “I did? I don’t wanna die?” he offers, maybe a little too honestly.

“No,” Bill says.

“You’re lucky we’re not measuring dicks?” he says to buy time, wracking his brain for what supposedly inspiring thing he’d said when they were here as kids.

Bill shakes his head.

“Let’s kill this fucking clown?” he says. It’s not exactly what he said then, but it must be close enough because Bill grins at him.

“Let’s kill this fucking clown,” Richie says, managing a little more conviction.

The others smile and they grab the stuff from Mike’s boxes. They head cautiously inside.

“Love what he’s done with the place,” Richie says, trying to distract himself from how fucking terrified he is at being back here. 

“Beep beep, Richie,” Bev says.

“I feel like we should speed run this shit,” Richie says quietly to Eddie. “We know where we’re headed, lets fucking get on with it.”

Eddie looks like he agrees with him, but the others are moving slow, careful. So of fucking course they get separated.

The kitchen door slams just behind Richie and Ben is screaming from the other side of the door. He looks around, Bill, Stan, and Eddie are in the room with him, which means it’s up to Bev and Mike to save Ben. Bill and Stan are banging on the door, calling out for the others. Richie shines his light around the room, taking stock. It looks exactly like it did back then, he can almost see himself begging Eddie to look at him instead of Pennywise advancing on them. Can almost see Eddie laying there, arm bent in the wrong spot. Can almost feel the same fear. He looks to Eddie and Stan; they look as terrified as he is.

The fridge starts to rattle. They turn to face it.

“That can’t be good,” Richie says.

The door creaks open. Inside is Stan. Well, Stan as a kid. He’s fucked up looking, like the version of Eddie Richie and Bill had seen as kids. He’s twisted around, contorted to fit inside the fridge.

“It’s Stan,” Richie says, shocked.

“What the fuck?” Stan says.

Fucked up kid Stan looks up at them, screams, then its head rolls off and around the room. It comes to a stop and looks up at them.

“This is all your fault, Bill.” It says. “Richie? What’s happening to me?”

All Richie can do is stare at it in open mouthed shock.

It whimpers suddenly as legs start to sprout from the side of its face.

Stan is rubbing at the scars ringing his face. Eddie starts to hyperventilate. Richie is frozen.

It finishes its horrifying transformation and starts to laugh maniacally.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Richie says.

It screams then lunges towards them. They scatter. It charges Eddie and he kicks it away. Bill knocks it out of the room.

“Eddie,” Richie says, moving to check on him. “Are you okay?”

Before Eddie can even open his mouth, a long strand of saliva drips between them.

Richie shines his flashlight up at the rafters and “Oh, there he is.”

It jumps down and tackles him to the floor. It gets its legs around his head and is trying to bite at him. Bill’s got ahold of it and is pulling, trying to yank it off of him. The two of them are barely managing to hold it back.

Richie’s yelling, he’s not sure what he’s saying, but he thinks he might be begging Bill to get it off. Bill’s yelling something, and Richie can’t even process it. He thinks he can vaguely hear the others yelling his name.

A knife appears almost out of nowhere, and the thing stops trying to eat Richie’s face off, instead cringing as the knife stabs into it several times. It takes way, way more stabs than it should for it to finally let Richie’s face go and Bill takes it, but Richie can’t see what happens cause his face is covered in monster drool.

“Are you alright?” Bev asks him.

“I can’t see,” he says, and Bev pulls off his glasses and wipes them down.

Bev and Mike help Richie up off the floor. Ben has Stan tucked under his arm and Bill is charging towards Eddie, who’s frozen in the corner.

“He could have fucking died, man, you know that right?” Bill yells. “Georgie’s dead and the kid’s dead, you want Richie too? You want Richie too?”

Richie cringes. Of course Eddie doesn’t want him to die, he’s scared, doesn’t Bill get that? Its supremely uncool of Bill to throw that in Eddie’s face.

“I don’t, I don’t,” Eddie chokes out. “Please don’t be mad, Bill. I was just scared.” He sounds like he may cry.

“That’s what it wants, right?” Bill says. “Don’t give it to him.”

They go into the basement. Eddie won’t meet his eye even though Richie keeps trying to get his attention to make sure he’s okay. Eddie probably thinks he’s mad at him, the dumbass.

They get down into the sewers. It’s flooded out, the water as high as their chests, instead of about ankle deep like it was back then.

“Eugh, greywater,” Eddie says.

They’re wading through it, making their way to a small island of rock in the center of the room when Bev stops and looks behind them.

“What is it?” Ben asks.

“I thought I heard something,” She says, and a large shape pops up and grabs her.

They dive in after her. They resurface, drenched, but Bev is safe.

“Mike, where do we go from here?” Richie says.

Deeper, as it turns out. Richie didn’t know they could go any deeper, but apparently they can. Mike pulls open what looks like a manhole cover. Richie is super grateful for the climbing gear. Mike starts down, Bill and Stan close behind him.

“You guys, I can’t do it.” Eddie says. “You saw what happened up there, I just fucking froze up. I was gonna let you die.”

He finally looks at Richie. “You let me go down there with you, I’m gonna get us all killed,” he says.

Well that’s bullshit. Eddie’s brave as fuck, but sometimes he needs to be reminded of that. So Richie gets close, puts a hand on his shoulder, and prepares to give him a pep talk.

“Hey,” Richie says. “No, come on. You had a moment, fine. But who killed a psychotic clown before he was fourteen?”

“Me,” Eddie says.

“Who stabbed Bowers with his own fucking knife?” Richie says.

“Me,” Eddie says.

“Who came out to his friends after living in the closet for forty years of his life?” Richie says.

“Me,” Eddie says.

“Yeah,” Richie says gently. “You’re braver than you think.”

Eddie nods. Richie remembers that Bev and Ben are still there, which is the only reason he doesn’t also kiss Eddie. He doesn’t think they’re there yet. They still have to have a conversation about what the fuck is going on between them. So clearly, they’ve both gotta make it out of here.

Bev hands Eddie her fence post. “Here, it kills monsters,” she says.

“It does?” He asks.

“If you believe it does,” She says.

They follow the others into the caverns under Derry. It’s, huge, ridiculously huge, and it takes Richie’s breath away.

“So this has been under Derry forever?” Eddie says.

“Not forever,” Mike says. “Just a billion years.”

“That’s essentially forever,” Richie rolls his eyes and whispers to Eddie.

They climb inside what looks like a meteor impact site and Mike sets his relic down in the middle. They stand in a circle around it.

“Okay, now we burn our artifacts.” Mike says.

One by one they toss their items into the fire.

“Join hands. The lights are going to come down, do not look at them. Say ‘turn light into dark,’” Mike says.

They start chanting. The lights descend. Richie slams his eyes shut, hoping the others have done the same. It gets darker and Mike steps forward to put a lid on the relic. But it won’t close.

A red balloon starts to grow, pushing them back and out of the ring of spikes. The balloon pops, its loud and disorienting, leaving Richie’s ears ringing.

The losers are calling out for each other, probably too loud but sound is muffled like this. They manage to find each other and ask Mike if it worked.

Judging by the way Pennywise peers around a spike to taunt them, it didn’t work.

Mike admits that the last people to attempt this ritual failed. It’s clear that he was desperate for this to work. Bill is yelling at him for lying to them, but they’re kind of past that now. Bill needs to get his priorities in check. The clown lashes a claw out towards Mike and thankfully, Bill has gotten his shit together, because he yanks Mike out of the way.

Pennywise goes on the attack, spiked arms coming at all of them. They run.

Richie ducks into a tunnel, Eddie and Stan following him. There’s an arm behind them, pushing them forward and he keeps moving until they hit a dead end in the form of those fucking doors. 

“Let’s do Not Scary at All,” Eddie says.

“No!” Richie grabs his arm to stop him. “He’s fucking with us. It’s flipped.”

“Are you sure?” Stan asks.

“Yeah, it did this to me and Bill the first time we went into Neibolt,” Richie says.

“Okay,” Eddie says. Stan nods.

Richie, one hand wrapped around Eddie’s wrist, reaches out to ease the Very Scary door open.

It’s dark, and there’s a string hanging down. Richie pulls it and a light clicks on to reveal a closet, which is some bullshit all on its own but then a whisper comes from further in the tunnel.

“Where’s my shoe?” A set of legs comes skipping down the tunnel and Richie is reminded of he and Bill finding the top half of Betty Ripsom’s body hanging behind the door as kids. Riche slams the door shut.

“He’s not fucking with us. Let’s do not scary,” Richie says.

Eddie pulls the door open and all that’s there is a little Pomeranian. Richie regrets his bullshitting about Its true form from earlier.

“I don’t trust that,” Eddie says.

“Yeah, that thing is definitely a monster,” Richie says.

“Guys, the arm’s gone,” Stan says.

“Richie, make it sit,” Eddie says.

Richie looks at him then turns back to the dog.

“Sit,” he says. The thing does, which is surprising. And cute.

He and Eddie are cooing at the puppy.

“Guys, the arm’s gone,” Stan says.

They’re clearly not paying attention, cause, puppy.

“Guys,” Stan starts again, and the dog transforms into some kind of monster. They scream and Richie slams the door shut.

“You two are idiots. Why the fuck did I follow you down here?” Stan says.

“Sorry,” Richie says.

Mike is yelling back up in the cavern and they run towards it. When Richie gets to the mouth of the tunnel, he sees that Pennywise is holding Mike up off the ground. Well, that won’t stand. Richie looks around for some way to get its attention and sees a pile of loose rocks. Bingo.

He grabs a few rocks and chucks one at the alien monster.

“You wanna play truth or dare? Here’s a truth! You’re a sloppy bitch!” Richie yells.

It works. It tosses Mike aside and tuns towards him. Shit, now what. No, another rock. He rears back to throw another one.

“Let’s dance! Yippie-ki-yay motherfu-” he starts only to get caught in the deadlights.

At least that’s what he figures must have happened. He’s watching them die. In gory technicolor. They die, and die, and die, and die. Over and over and over and over. In too many ways, but they lose and lose and lose to It. It’s endless loops and Richie has no idea how long he’s there; he loses all track of time.

He wakes up suddenly, with a sharp gasp. Eddie’s crouched above him.

“Eds,” Richie says.

“Hey, Rich,” Eddie says gently.

And Richie knows what comes next. Eddie will say something about killing It and a claw will come through his chest.

“Shit, Eddie!” Richie says and tackles Eddie to the side. He’s staring down at Eddie now.

“Rich? You okay?” Eddie asks.

Richie has to check, he has to, he can’t believe that worked. He presses his hands to Eddie’s stomach. It’s whole, unharmed.

"Rich?” Eddie says.

“You’re ok. You’re ok,” Richie says in relief.

“Yeah, Rich, I’m okay,” Eddie says, gentle. “Are you?”

“Yeah, yes, yeah, I’m good,” Richie nods then looks around them. “Where, where are we?”

“In another tunnel,” Eddie says. “Stan caught you when you fell, and we moved you here.”

“Holy fuck,” Richie breathes. “It wasn’t real.” Like, objectively he knew it wasn’t real, but it had felt so, so real.

“What, Rich?” Eddie says.

“Fuckin’ deadlights,” Richie says, trying to shake himself out of it. “Tell you later.”

“Okay. You sure you’re ok?” Eddie says.

“Yeah,” Richie says.

“Good,” Eddie says and leans up to kiss him.

It’s quick, and Richie grins at him when he pulls back. Eddie rolls his eyes. They help each other up. 

Bev and Ben slide into the tunnel.

“Is Richie okay?” Bev demands.

“Yeah,” Stan says. “Eddie had to Ben it. But he’s good now.”

Ben blushes. Bev quirks an eyebrow. Richie grins at Eddie. Eddie’s blushing.

“Stan, you’re fucking evil, man.” Eddie says.

“Nah, that’s the clown,” Stan shoots back.

“What now?” Bev asks.

Mike and Bill come running into the tunnel.

“Rich, you ok?” Mike asks.

“Peachy keen,” Richie says, trying to smile, but he’s sure it looks more like a grimace.

“You sure?” Bill asks.

“Yeah, no one’s dead, so we’re doing real well,” Richie says, he’s still shaken by what he’d seen. But they don’t have time for him to process right now. “The deadlights are a fuckin’ trip.”

“Rich,” Bev says, eyes pained.

Stan bumps into Richie’s arm and Richie pulls him and Bev into his side.

“I’ll make us shirts when we get outta here,” he says. Seriously, he can’t talk through this now.

“How do we get out of here?” Stan asks.

It seems Pennywise has finally figured out where they are, because he starts hitting the rock around the entrance to their tunnel.

“Fucking hell, guys,” Eddie says. “If he was smaller, we could deal with him easier.”

“What are you saying, Eddie?” Bev asks.

“I ran into It at the pharmacy. The leper again. And I fought back, I had my hands around its throat, and it felt so weak. That’s when it puked on me,” Eddie says.

“Cause you’d backed it into a corner and you were winning,” Stan says, eyes wide in understanding.

“If we make it small, we can fight it, we can beat it,” Mike says.

“If we’re not afraid of it,” Bev says. She looks like she’s remembering something. “That’s how we won last time, but this time, there’s nowhere else for it to go. This time we finish it off.”

“So how do we make it small?” Ben asks.

“The tunnel we used to come in, we had to crawl in, It has to be small to get through it.” Bev says.

“Ok, on three we run for it,” Richie says.

They nod.

“One, two, three,” Richie says. They duck out the second entrance to the tunnel and start sprinting towards the exit. It’s no use. Pennywise is faster, he’s in front of them, between them and their way out in no time.

“What do we do now?” Bill says.

“You die is what you do!” Pennywise taunts.

“There’s more than one way to make someone small.” Mike says solemnly.

“Small? Me? I am the eater of worlds!” Pennywise says.

“Not to us you’re not. You’re just a fucking clown,” Mike says.

“Eater of worlds!” it screeches and swings a leg at them.

“You’re a stupid clown!” Ben screams back and It halts, begins to falter.

They scream it down, hurling insults, unafraid, slinging the shit it used against them back at it. It backs up, it shrinks, it cowers, it whimpers and finally, Mike reaches down to pull Its heart out.

“Look at you,” It says softly, “You’re all grown up.”

They crush Its heart together, all as one, the lucky fucking seven.

The lights go out. It crumbles to dust. They breathe a sigh of relief.

That moment of victory is cut short as everything begins to shake, rocks falling around them. They run, sticking close to each other. They clamber back up their ropes and sprint out of the house. They don’t stop until they’ve made it to the street on the other side of the fence. They lean against each other, gasping for breath. The house keeps trembling, shaking, then collapses in on itself, covering the horror under the sewers forever.

They stare in silence for a minute. Then Richie cheers.

“We fucking did it!” he yells. “Lucky fucking Seven!”

The others cheer and they stay wrapped around each other. They’re all gross, covered in dirt and dust and blood and sewer water.

Bev grins up at him, “You know what we should do?” She’s smirking, eyes playful.

“Go to the quarry, right?” Richie grins back at her.

“Fuck yeah,” Bill says.

They walk. They’re loud, and Richie’s surprised that they don’t draw angry residents to their doors. But they’re free of It for the first time in forever and they’ve come to terms with their shit. They’re giddy on their victory.

They get to the quarry and Richie can practically see all of them standing there as kids. They strip off their jackets and shoes, drop their electronics in a pile with their clothes.

Bev takes the plunge first, screaming triumphantly on her way down.

Ben goes over, then Mike, then Bill. Stan looks at Richie and shrugs, then jumps.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Eddie says.

He looks at Eddie.

“You secretly love it,” Richie says.

“Swimming around in dirty water?” Eddie says. “No way, dude.”

“Nah, you like it. Being free, it’s the jump that you like, and a little bit being in the dirty water when you know your mom would hate it,” Richie says.

Eddie stares at him for a minute then steps into his space and kisses him. And doesn’t stop kissing him. Richie’s helpless to do anything other than kiss back. He’s so fucking in love with Eddie. He’s not sure where this is going to go, but he’s over the fucking moon to have this for now. He kisses Eddie like he’s drowning and Eddie is air. He can’t help himself.

But he knows it’s gone on too long so he makes himself pull back.

“Eds,” he says, breathless.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs and pulls him back in to kiss him again.

“Eds, baby, we gotta go, we gotta jump,” Richie says. It won’t take much longer before the others start to suspect something.

Eddie lets him go, then lets Richie pull him to the edge. Richie waits for Eddie to be ready to go.

Eddie nods and Richie grins at him. They take a running leap off the edge in tandem.

It feels incredible.

Richie screams right before they hit the water. They’re grinning at each other when they surface.

“Took you two long enough to join us,” Stan smirks.

Richie splashes him. Stan laughs and splashes back. Which turns into all-out war between all seven of them.

“Wait, wait,” Richie says after a few minutes. He’s lost his glasses.

The others laugh at him and duck underwater to find them.

Eddie comes up first.

“This is so gross,” Eddie says.

Stan smirks and acts like he’s going to dunk Eddie.

“Are Ben and Bev making out down there?” Richie says, squinting at the water.

“So fucking gross. This is greywater,” Eddie says.

“Mike probably shouldn’t have that cut in this water,” Stan says.

The rest of them surface. Eddie whirls on Mike.

“Holy shit! Mike, get the fuck out of the water. We gotta get your arm cleaned,” Eddie says. “You should probably go to the hospital for it at this point.”

Richie grins at Eddie. The others must be doing the same thing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Eddie says.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Eddie,” Bev smiles.

“Okay, fine, sure, but we still need to get Mike’s arm clean,” he says, motioning for them to get out.

They climb out of the water and gather their things. They climb, dripping, into Richie’s car. Richie drops Mike and Bill off at the hospital and heads back to the Townhouse so the rest of them can clean up.

“I’m going to take Mike’s truck to the hospital so they aren’t stranded. I’ll let you guys know when we’re done and we can meet up somewhere for dinner,” Stan says once they’re all showered.

“Anything but Chinese,” Richie says with a shudder.

Stan laughs and nods. He leaves with a wave.

Bev and Ben are sharing glances. Eddie is looking at him like he needs to talk. Well, he can give Ben and Bev space if he takes Eddie somewhere to talk. He thinks for a minute. The bridge.

“Hey Eds,” he says, “I need to show you something.”

Eddie looks at him like he might be making a joke.

“I’m not making a joke,” Richie rolls his eyes. “I’m not about to tell you it’s my dick.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, Trashmouth,” Ben teases.

Richie flips him off, but he’s watching Eddie.

“Fine,” Eddie says.

“Great, come on,” Richie says and leads Eddie out of the house.

“We’ll be back in a bit!” He calls out behind him.

He’s nervous. Nervous to show Eddie his carving, but he knows it’s a good place to start. He just doesn’t know how this will end. He stays quiet the whole way, and Eddie is quiet as he follows.

Finally, they come to the kissing bridge.

“Why are we out here, Rich?” Eddie asks.

“I told you, I wanna show you something,” Richie says, looking out for his carving.

He stops next to it. “There,” he says.

“What am I looking for here, Rich?” Eddie asks.

Richie sighs and crouches down to point out the R+E he’d carved into the wood 27 years ago.

Eddie crouches next to him. “Rich, you?” Eddie asks breathlessly.

“Yeah, I did it that summer,” Richie admits. “I, I couldn’t tell anyone, but I couldn’t keep it in anymore. Stan found me not long after. I was freaking out. That’s how he found out.”

“Rich,” Eddie says. He’s crying and Richie reaches out to wipe the tears away.

“Eds, I know you said we’d finish that conversation later, and I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but do you think, do you think we could do that?” Richie says.

“Yeah, Rich,” Eddie says. “We can talk about it.”

“Okay,” Richie nods. “Okay.”

“Rich,” Eddie says. “Rich, I don’t know what you want, but I meant it when I said I love you and I don’t want to let you go again. I don’t want to, I don’t know, make you feel like you have to do anything but, I, I know I need you in my life. And if the best way is as friends, I understand and that’s fine-”

Well that’s stupid. Richie’s the one who will take whatever he can get. Richie’s the one who doesn’t deserve Eddie.

“Eddie, I want you in my life however you’ll let me be there. I would love it if we were together, but if that’s too much, I get it. I love you. I’ve always loved you; I don’t think I ever stopped. And I want all the time I can have with you. Like, I don’t know what you have to do, but like, whatever you want, I’ll do. If you want to come to LA with me, if you want me to come to New York with you, if you want to never see me again. Whatever you want,” Richie says.

“Jesus, Rich,” Eddie says.

“I know,” Richie says. “I’m pathetic.”

“No, you absolutely are not. I love you too, dumbass. I’ve felt like something’s been missing this whole time and it’s you. It’s always been you. I wanna be with you, too. I want-” Eddie says.

“Anything, Eds,” Richie says, there’s definitely desperation in his voice.

“I’m divorcing my wife; I’ve already told her. I, I want you to come with me to New York to make arrangements. I want to come to LA with you. I wanna be with you,” Eddie says decisively.

Richie’s crying. “Yes, Eddie, yes,” he says, his voice is barely working.

“You sure?” Eddie says. “It’s not too much?”

“Maybe some people would think so, but I’ve spent 27 years of my life without you and I can’t wait a second longer,” Richie says.

“Me either, Rich,” Eddie says.

Eddie kisses him then. There on the Kissing Bridge in the middle of their shit hometown that never gave them anything good but gave them each other. Richie’s crying, he’s not sure how long he’ll be crying. Too long probably. Their kiss tastes like salt from both their tears and its soft, gentle, and it tears Richie’s heart open.

Richie pulls back and rests his forehead against Eddie’s, eyes closed and breathing heavy.

“I love you,” Richie says.

“I love you, too,” Eddie says.

“Hey, let’s carve the bridge again,” Richie says.

“Okay,” Eddie says. And they do.

They stand there, admiring their work.

Richie checks his watch. They’ve been out here longer than he’d realized.

“Hey, we should get back,” he says.

It doesn’t take long for them to make their way back. Ben and Bev have left the lounge and Richie hopes that means they’re also working their shit out. 

Richie and Eddie take a seat on the couch to wait to hear from Stan. They aren’t there long before Ben and Bev make a reappearance.

“Did you guys figure your shit out?” Richie says.

“Did you?” Bev tosses back.

“Yeah, baby,” Richie grins.

Bev grins back at him. Ben settles into the loveseat and pulls Bev down with him. They fall into easy conversation until Stan calls.

They agree to meet up for pizza and it’s a much better dinner than the horror that was dinner the night before. They get kicked out of the pizza place for being too loud after about an hour and a half. They head back to the Townhouse for another Losers slumber party.

Richie’s not sure exactly what will happen tomorrow, but he knows it will be good. They’ve got each other back. They’ve got their memories back. They’ve got a group chat and plans to meet up soon in place. They’ve won, and they’re never going back to that place of fear again. They drift off together, curled around each other, content and loved.


End file.
